There's a traveling girl reaching through my hands, curiously testing the lock on every door she stumbles across as she explores this most interesting realm. This world with it's laws that seem so real and she laughs at the part of me that believes they are. There's a traveling girl, timeless, brilliant and mad to live on the edge of every truth ever told, every rule ever made, every game ever played. She enjoys the view through my eyes, she thinks outside my mind from a deeper place inside... and she never ceases reaching through my hand towards the handle of every door that I'd always planned (for practicality's sake) to leave unopened. She'd prefer the locks be broken, the words be spoken and reality tested till its forgotten or bested ~ by this traveling girl exploring this fascinating world ~ where people believe in the rules of time, the limits of gravity and oh so gladly follow the standards set by all the others that explored this place before... But not her, none of the rules apply to her, because she's just a traveler passing through.
It's back to this, awake and writing in the the night, it always comes back to this. I tried to sleep an hour ago, the sensible thing to do, with the day I have ahead of me tomorrow. But these thoughts, they toss and turn me out of bed, into the night restless. I step out my back door, breathe in the cool midnight air and a story is pouring into my mind. With no outlet I would certainly go mad, so instead of sleep I grab a pen or keyboard and let the words slip from mind to fingertip. I think of you and I wonder if you're alone too, sleeping soundly, chasing a dream, chasing a girl. What does it even matter to me, when after every love affair, chance meeting, tryst or tragedy ~ it's just back to me and a torrent of words I cannot stop, flowing forth from my mind in the middle of the night. I'm beginning to wonder if I even know what love is, when the only lover I've ever been faithful to is pen, paper and a cup of coffee. And I stand here in my kitchen doorway, nothing but a blue throw to protect me from the evening air, as I open the door, breathe in the night and wonder ~ do I bother to write or be sensible and try to get some sleep. Write it is... my love, my bliss, the only affair that ever worked out for me is this, it always always comes back to this.
My travels over the years have taken me around the world. There was a moment when I was on a boat crossing the Visayan Sea on my way to the Island of Cebu in the Philippines. I was 14 years old and it was early in the morning, the sun not quite up and I needed some space. The boat was packed with people and even back then I needed my time alone. I made my way up from our cabin in the lower levels of the ship out to the deck. I wanted to get a clear view and it seemed the only way was to get to the front tip of the boat. I crossed the line beyond where passengers were meant to go, tripped on some piles of rope and made my way across the slippery deck. It was worth it, standing in that spot just at sunrise I could see nothing but ocean and a few small Islands off in the distance. I felt the wind and morning sun on my skin with a mist of sea water and the barrier between myself and the universe just melted away, I became one with all. That was the moment I knew that the Universe was an unlimited place and that absolutely nothing was impossible.
I found the place between tree branches and sky. I took a moment and climbed inside.
I lost myself there and loved what came after the moment I lost myself there. I became peace.
I became a branch high in the shadows of the tree.
I became a wisp of air that blew through those branches
I was the dirt that the roots dug in and clung to and the roots enjoying the deep cool of the earth surrounding me.
I found the place between tree branches and sky, I climbed inside and I stayed for the night.
I saw my breath against the morning light and I thanked the universe for encircling me, somewhere within the shadow of it's wing and allowing me a moment of peace.
A moment of forgetting to be myself or anyone else in between... the dirt, the sky and the branches of that tree.
Seems like a hundred years I've been waiting by the door
But what's a lifetime between friends that cross over realms and back again.
Down a road of thought you'll see the last sign
And time has worn a trail to my door
But it'll be open if you ever pass nearby
And if you arrive in the dark of night... there'll be a light.
The sun burned hot in the sky last summer.
The rain did not come for months and everything that had been real to me began to fade
Like the green of the grass as it changed to yellow, crackled beneath my bare feet and turned to dust.
I remember forgetting obligations, complications and random social drama...
I stepped away from it all and chased rust and trains instead.
As the reality I knew twisted, turned, writhed and fought for my attention
I let it wither and fade.
I ran after magic, I meditated in the dry heat,
I let time roll backwards and forwards then cease to exist at all.
I chased sunrises and sunsets
I hunted for old buildings where I could lose myself in photographing the lovely details
Of crumbling bricks and cracked paint
And I thought about how everything we build turns to ash eventually.
It is only our soul outside of time and fabrication that lives and exists to create more life.
So I stopped feeding the machine
The man made web of credit, work and wasted days
My life would no longer be lost to wretched office walls
That would one day crumble and decay like the rest.
I chased sunsets and trains instead
Until I couldn't even remember why I ever walked into the office day after day
And believed that it mattered and was worth trading in my life, my bliss, my time or my art.
Then one day after the drought outside had lasted for so long
that it had drained most of the color from the natural world around me
I looked up and asked for rain.
I felt one drop then another
The sky clouded and the storm came
With a torrent of rain
And I walked out of the office and chased the storm instead.
Charity J January 27 2013
I waited by the window.
I waited by the door.
I waited at a cafe table with a bottle of wine and I watched for a sign.
On the fire escape, leaned over the rail.
Watched till night fell, the streets cleared
and a hollow wind tangled through the trees.
I watched the sun rise and fall, the moon wax and wane...
The seasons would change and yet no change in me.
I waited and those thoughts of you would not leave.
I waited for a step on the stair, a knock on the door, a word in my ear.
Smoked a cigarette on the fire escape
flicking ashes through the rails between my feet
watching the embers fall to the sidewalk and burn out.
And I waited for these feelings to fade away like the end of a long hot day,
the way a cool night breeze comes through the window
tickles my neck inviting me out for a midnight walk.
I waited for a word, a touch, a something... but nothing.
I waited till I could not even remember what it was I wanted and why
I had never bothered to ask before I waited.
So I waited.
Eyes open wide
Lip corners peak up
In the evening rain
For the fire
In the dust driven dew
The dark night has driven
Me back to you.